


Living Paint and Other Troubles

by OnceABlueMoon



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Comedy, Ed and Roy and still fucking with the fuhrers way into the future, F/M, Government, History is not always what you think it is, Humor, M/M, POV Outsider, Podfic Welcome, Portraits, Think magical HP portraits but in the fma universe, thats the true legacy that matters, the new fuhrers dreams are crushed because ed and roy are all about short jokes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-19 12:43:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22711012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnceABlueMoon/pseuds/OnceABlueMoon
Summary: There is a new fuhrer in town and he's about to get a big shock.A few hundred years after Roy made Amestris into a democracy, the newest fuhrer discovers the open secret of the fuhrer office: at night, the portraits of the past fuhrers come to life. Needlessly to say, Fuhrer Mustang and his staunchest supporter Edward Elric, Alchemist of the People, are by far not the prim and proper founding fathers the new fuhrer expected...
Relationships: Edward Elric/Roy Mustang
Comments: 27
Kudos: 313





	Living Paint and Other Troubles

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Adel Mortescryche (Mortescryche)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mortescryche/gifts).



> Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist.

Winston inwardly sighs as he walks towards Fuhrer Jessica. His inauguration went smoothly and greeting your predecessor right after is tradition. Winston’s all for tradition, but not all for the previous Madam Fuhrer. 

‘’Have fun working overtime,’’ Fuhrer Jessica winks. 

Winston scoffs. ‘’It is the duty of the fuhrer to serve this country to the utmost and I will do so, no doubts about that.’’ _Unlike you,_ is the underlying message, but Winston’s never been shy with his opinion on Fuhrer Jessica’s behaviour. She’s awfully unprofessional when there’s no audience or foreign dignitaries to be seen. 

Fuhrer Jessica giggles. ‘’I think you’ll learn a lot about fuhrership in the next few weeks. Why, I might even say you’ll learn a lot tomorrow night!’’ 

Tomorrow night? Why so specific? Whatever, Winston’s just glad he won’t have to see Fuhrer Jessica again in the near future. Or have to call her Madam Fuhrer anymore. God, he’d hated having to do that. Then again, he’d never really liked his competition. Not in school for the best grade, not in track for the best time, not in the elections for the best spot in parliament. 

Jessica’s been talking nonsense for a long time. Winston’s not about to start listening now. 

* * *

Winston yawned as he waited for his coffee. During the day, he’d sent one of his assistants to get it, but it was nearly six and darkness was starting to fall. Everybody had left at five. He was one of the few people left in the building and he was in for a long night. So much for the public believing fuhrer to be a glamorous post. It truly wasn’t. Just long nights and a lot of duties. Winston didn’t mind, though. He knew what he had signed up for. 

Picking up his blessed caffeine, he walks back to his office. 

He liked the fuhrer office quite a lot. It had just the right amount of pomp and circumstance, including but not limited to a priceless antique desk, two huge windows looking out over the parliament square, and the portraits of the previous Fuhrers and notable personnel under their command. In the middle of the room, right behind his desk, in between the two windows, was Winston’s absolute favourite. It featured Fuhrer Roy Mustang, the founding father of Amestris’ democracy, and his staunch supporter the Alchemist of the People, Edward Elric. 

Unlike some of the _other_ previous fuhrers, the portrait of their founding father was prim and proper, as both he and Elric had no doubt been themselves. 

This is when he hears screaming in his office. Startling, Winston nearly drops his coffee, before putting it down and running for the doors. Who the hell is making a ruckus in _his office?_

Later, after a nervous breakdown or two, he will realize that what he did was very stupid. The Fuhrer, nearly alone in the building, hearing disturbances in his office when he knows there was no one left there? It could’ve been an attempt on his life. 

Fortunately, it was not. Though whether Winston would consider what he found in his office to be _fortunate…_ Well, that’s another story entirely. 

He throws open the doors and finds- 

He freezes. There is no one in his office, and yet _there is movement._ His eyes are drawn toward the huge portrait above his desk. There is movement because _the portraits are moving and screaming._

Winston, who up until now has looked at those portraits every morning to see the most distinguished figures in history, is now watching them come alive. Living paint. And Edward Elric, Alchemist of the People, is loudly cursing out Fuhrer Mustang and using portrait alchemy to drench the portrait Fuhrer in portrait rain. While, of course, the portraits of the other fuhrers are _egging him on._

‘’I AM NOT SHORT!’’ Elric screams, full of fury. 

‘’Fight, fight, fight!’’ the portraits around them scream. 

‘’Oh my god,’’ Winston whispers, ‘’My life was a lie.’’ 

Somehow, despite the cacophony in the room, Fuhrer Mustang hears him. His eyes, betraying his Xingese ancestry, are black and seem to penetrate his soul. His mouth opens to speak what must undoubtedly be words of incredible wisdom: ‘’That’s what they all say.’’ 

The portraits go silent, Winston’s jaw drops. 

‘’You’re all so very precious,’’ Mustang coos, ‘’I love hazing the new fuhrers.’’ 

Elric slaps his shoulder, before narrowing his eyes at Winston. ‘’Are they fucking with history again?’’ 

It takes Winston a second to realize that he’s talking about, you know, Winston’s life being a lie. 

Elric’s expression turns deadpan. ‘’Really?’’

Winston turns around, takes a deep breath and walks away. 

He can’t deal with this shit today, and certainly not without coffee. 

* * *

Turns out the fuhrer state portraits are an alchemic secret. Yes, they come alive at night. Yes, Winston hadn’t been hallucinating. Sadly. 

Three weeks into this whole revelation what the _true_ character of the fuhrers of the past is, all Winston wants is some goddamn quiet. He’s busy, he’s the Fuhrer and he’s _working overtime for a reason._ He wants some quiet and he wants to _work._

This is when Elric, of course, capitalizes on the situation. God knows how Winston ever had seen _that_ cad as a respectable person, history books be damned. That gleam in his eyes is dangerous and Winston is _right to watch him with suspicion!_

‘’If you guys are fucking with history anyway…’’ Elric says, golden eyes darkening with sinister intent, ‘’I’ll shut up if you let me go down in history as a giant.’’ 

Suddenly Winston understands why some people thought the remnants of Xerxes were the devil’s work. Elric certainly is. 

He can feel the headache coming up. Then again, he hasn’t been able to keep the migraine away for weeks with all that shouting in his office at night, and he’s pretty sure he’d sell his soul to the devil for some peace if he hadn’t sold it to his country yet. 

‘’So I add a couple of centimetres to your heights in the records… and buy your silence?’’ 

Next to Elric, Mustang’s painted visage pales. ‘’No! Don’t give in to temptation! You are the _fuhrer!_ You have a duty to uphold! A legacy to protect! Our country must know the truth, Winston!’’ 

The other fuhrers nod. ‘’Don’t be fooled, young grasshopper. He never stays silent. Never. We tried before, Fuhrer Kahn even elevated Alphonse Elric to a saint post-humously, and _still,_ Elric did not shut up. Two minutes, Winston. Two minutes of silence only.’’ 

Winston is in dire straits. His headache is mounting, those two minutes might be _worth_ the trouble. Seeing his considering expression, Elric begins to cackle and Mustang’s fists ignite. 

‘’My greatest triumph was the short jokes! Do not erase my legacy! I am valid! I lived! I created this democratic nation! You shall not negate my greatest work!’’ 

Winston pinches his nose. ‘’Fuhrer Mustang, the history books say-‘’ 

Mustang cuts him off: ‘’The short jokes are the _only_ legacy that matters!’’ 

Winston is done. He’ll work at the coffee bar if this is how his evening in the office is going, Felicia from the PR department haunting it be damned. 

He can hear Fuhrer Jessica cackling in the back of his mind. She’s laughing almost as hard as her portrait.

* * *

He comes back later that night, an empty coffee cup in his hand and a head full of troublesome thoughts inspired by Felicia. His work’s done, he only needs to put it on his desk now so his assistant will bring it to the right people bright and early tomorrow morning. 

Surprisingly, his office is quiet, except for the stray snore. Portraits sleep too, apparently. Smiling at the peaceful faces after a long day, Winston stays in the door opening for a bit. Just watching. They might be a handful, but they’re worth it. He’s always been a history buff, but watching them come to life is a marvel, even if they’re not always what he thought or wanted them to be. 

His eyes slide over Fuhrer Jessica and her wife, Fuhrer Kahn and his Xingese first lady, Fuhrer Kindra and her merchant and the many others. 

‘’Are you sure you’re alright?’’ Mustang’s voice cuts through the silence like a knife, though his voice is soft and tender. 

Winston startles. He’s so used to Mustang and Elric being a flurry of movement and sound that he hadn’t even realized that they weren’t asleep like all the other portraits. Elric’s golden hair is loose, out of his customary braid, and Winston never quite realized how long it was until now. It drapes around his broad shoulders, down to his waist. Elric is sitting on the sofa painted in the middle of the portrait, Mustang kneeling in front of him. Winston can’t quite see his expression- it’s shielded by both his long hair and the fact that he’s looking down towards Mustang. 

‘’It’s just these fucking limbs. God knows not even being a portrait would get rid of the aching of my automail in winter.’’ 

Mustang sighs, reaching up to cup Elric’s cheek. ‘’I should’ve installed that floor heating installation I made in the walls here.’’ 

Elric tugs him up, pushing him down on the sofa next to him. He leans on his shoulder. ‘’No use crying about spilt milk.’’ 

Mustang laughs softly. ‘’Because you know all about milk.’’ 

Elric mumbles something back sleepily as he nestles against Mustang, his eyelids slowly falling. The show of trust is immense.

With his breath caught his throat, Winston turns around, softly shutting the door of his office. He’ll place the papers on his assistant’s desk directly. He’s not interrupting them tonight. 

He’s still not sure what to think of the entire display.

* * *

‘’Something here doesn’t add up,’’ Winston says one day when he is bored, a very dangerous thing to be in an office full of living portraits, ‘’I get why you and Elric were painted together, Fuhrer Mustang. After all, he was your staunchest supporter. Many of the later fuhrers were painted with their significant others. But why, in the name of the good heavens, is Fuhrer Kindra painted with a foreign merchant?’’ 

Fuhrer Kindra’s face turns to thunder, but her foreign merchant, a happy Aerugonian chap called Xavier, beams. The man, though Winston almost tends towards calling him a youth because of his boyish manner, grins even more as he opens his mouth. ‘’Oh, you know! There’s always some trade route that gets messed up, some alchemical prodigy showing up in the office, some officer trying to suck up to the Fuhrer… It has gotten to the point were the Fuhrer and their troublemaker are always painted together out of sheer revenge to the other portraits for saddling them with these problems!’’ 

Mustang wipes away a tear, looking at them like a proud papa. ‘’My secondary legacy!’’ 

‘’I’d argue,’’ Elric says, with that look that says he’d love to argue _everything_ that comes out of Mustang’s mouth, ‘’That as the first troublemaker, it is _my_ legacy.’’ 

The other portraits ignore them, their old couple bickering fading into the background easily.

‘’Of course,’’ Fuhrer Kindra grouches, ‘’At some point the fuhrers started to marry the troublemakers to protect the public, thus fools like you ending up with the idea that they got painted with their significant others. That was before my time, of course.’’ 

Xavier, almost two decades younger than her, looks genuinely disappointed about that. 

‘’Ah,’’ Winston sighs happily, ‘’Fortunately, I do not have a troublemaker then. If I marry, I’ll just get painted with my significant other.’’ 

In unison, a move that Winston will recall many a time in his nightmares, the portraits look straight at him and say: ‘’What about Felicia?’’ 

Winston splutters. ‘’What about her?! Felicia’s a menace! PR department’s head my ass, she causes more problems than she solves! Looks all fine and dandy to the public, sure, but her _internal behaviour!_ Can a man not get some coffee without being harassed?!’’ 

A bit out of breath from his rant, Winston leans against his desk, ignoring their pointed looks. ‘’I do _not_ have a troublemaker, and even if I did, I wouldn’t marry her!’’ 

With that, he grabs his coffee cup and marches out of there. 

‘’Good luck seducing her with _that_ attitude!’’ Xavier calls after him, and then, as if Winston is not still in earshot, Xavier hisses at the other portraits: ‘’I think she’s just pulling on his pigtails.’’ 

‘’You keep saying that about Kindra too, and she sure isn’t doing you,’’ Elric hisses back. Mustang cackles obnoxiously at Xavier’s expense.

Winston wonders if the portraits will burn if he uses benzine.

* * *

As if Winston’s life wasn’t a trashcan on fire already, Felicia starts to visit him in his office at _all_ hours and discovers that the portraits can talk. Needless to say, Winston is beginning to wonder if he’s in purgatory already. 

She likes gossiping with the portraits. _Gossiping._ During _his precious overtime work hours!_

‘’You’re just jealous that she isn’t paying attention to you,’’ Elric says. Felicia giggles as Winston splutters. 

‘’I bet you’ll be married before the year is out,’’ Mustang nods sagely, ‘’Unlike _some other people.’’_ His snide side-eye to Elric makes Winston blink. 

‘’Wait,’’ Felicia says, ‘’I thought all you guys were married? That’s why you got painted together, right?’’ 

Mustang sighs dramatically, draping himself over his little portrait sofa. ‘’We were living in _sin,_ Felicia! He never accepted my proposal! Left my love lying in the dirt, he did!’’ 

Winston’s pretty sure Mustang’s fucking with them, milking it for all it’s worth. Felicia eats it up, though, laughing as she tucks her white hair behind her ear. Her red eyes shine. Even Winston has to admit she’s pretty. 

Shaking his head, Winston gets those thoughts out of his head. ‘’Fuhrer Mustang, the books never said anything about-’’ 

‘’Books! That’s all he ever talked about too! Books this, books that, sometimes a bit about dear Alphonse, but accepting my love? NO! Even if he’s willing to accept my proposal now, he’ll have to bear it, because I have decided marriage is for the weak! We have been living in sin for ages now, we’ll stay that way!’’ 

Elric is beet red by this point. ‘’Shut up, bastard! What if this one believes you!’’ 

Winston is getting a little faint. Felicia perks up, mischief in her eyes. ‘’So, were you involved during your lifetime or is this a portrait affair?’’ 

Elric opens his mouth to answer, but Mustang puts his hands over his mouth. ‘’You’ll never find out.’’ He smirks. 

The thing is, Winston would love to believe that refusing to allow Elric to talk is Roy Mustang creating his own drama if there is none around to gleefully watch go down in flames. He’d also love to think that that blush on Mustang’s cheeks is imaginary. 

Also, Felicia looks way too cute in this light. 

Winston, too overcome by the revelations this day brought him, faints. 

* * *

It eats at him, not knowing whether Elric and Mustang were involved in life. Sure, by now he knows he really shouldn’t trust the history books, that much has become more than clear, but… Surely there would have been a trace of it? Somewhere? 

Sadly, both Mustang and Elric were alchemists- none of their personal writings have been decoded yet, and as Elric loudly proclaims: most of them should stay hidden anyway. 

If only they’d been married! Marriage certificates would’ve been easy to find. 

‘’I’m just wondering,’’ Felicia says one day, kicking her feet as she sits on his chair (the _Fuhrer chair),_ her legs a considerable distance from the ground, ‘’Are portrait-only affairs even a thing? How do the portraits work? Do portraits and their emotional life still evolve after getting painted? Is portrait romance even an actual thing?’’ 

‘’I just want to know if my childhood was a total _lie,_ Felicia, or just a complete fuck up,’’ Winston declares with a lump in his throat. 

She cocks her head. ‘’I mean, we know there are alchemists specialized in alchemic portraits such as these, but it’s a rather secretive branch. Then again, alchemists are always trying to figure out each other's secrets, aren’t they? Are there alchemists or scientists who try to figure stuff like this out?’’ 

Winston starts to cry. ‘’If you ever figure it out, please _tell me._ I will throw my personal fortune at them for grant money if only they figure it out! I want some peace of mind, Felicia! Some peace of mind!’’ 

‘’Shush,’’ Felicia laughs, hopping of the chair and standing on her tippy toes to cup his cheek, ‘’How about we get you some coffee? It’s going to be alright.’’ 

‘’You know what?’’ He hears Elric say as they leave the office, ‘’Winston’s a pretty good troublemaker too. But only for himself.’’ 

There’s no way he’d sentence his portrait self to the hell that is an eternity of hanging next to Edward Elric, Winston thinks to himself. Not even with a portrait Felicia by his side. 

Winston is _never_ standing for portrait. 

**Author's Note:**

> Years ago, Adel (Adel Mortescryche) and I had a conversation about Fullmetal Alchemist... And I decided it was finally time to write about it! 
> 
> [My Twitter](https://twitter.com/Bluechama) and the [tweet about this fic](https://twitter.com/Bluechama/status/1228244192197054465).


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